


You Technically Kidnapped Me But You Don't Even Want Me For Hostage After I Pulled A Boston Tea Party On Your Week's Worth of Gruel and Now I'm On Probation

by cereal_whore



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Protective Oikawa Tooru, Teams as Families but then becoming (1) Giant Family, inspired by sharkboy and lavagirl, kageyama has MAJOR npc energy except he's like a sim that's gone rogue, lowkey depressed oikawa but he vibing bc arent we all, okay liTErally everyone's friends with everyone even when they're trying to kill each other, ukai + tsukki + daichi + iwa have the same beating-someone-w/a-stick-energy, which is essentially real friendship anyways
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21776470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cereal_whore/pseuds/cereal_whore
Summary: “We found him in our fishing nets.”Ukai stares for an unnervingly quiet minute, and within precisely those sixty seconds he simultaneously experiences all seven stages of grief.“I don’t like it. Put it back.”-Avatar The Last Airbender AU where Karasuno Tribe's vessel accidentally picked up a stray firebender who may or may not be the disgraced Fire Nation prince, Kageyama Tobio, who's suffering from lactose intolerance and Daddy Issues™.Meanwhile, Hinata turns out to be the Avatar but with hair, and kidnaps the other Karasuno and Nekoma children for a Magic School Bus field-trip around the world that they're supposed to be saving.Or: the fic where Daichi is growing increasingly concerned about the Fire Nation boy they picked up, since his only role models while growing up appear to be this "Oikawa", and his sister, Azula, who has a reverse Oedipus complex.(Somewhere along the way, they meet a blind Kuroo, the Shiratorizawa as the Kyoshi warriors, and Oikawa™, and Daichi begins weighing the pros and cons of drowning.)
Relationships: Everyone & Everyone, Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio & Tsukishima Kei & Yachi Hitoka & Yamaguchi Tadashi, Kageyama Tobio & Everyone, Kageyama Tobio & Karasuno Volleyball Club, Kageyama Tobio & Kyoutani Kentarou, Kageyama Tobio & Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio/Solving his Problems with a Sword and Emotional Repression
Comments: 46
Kudos: 306





	You Technically Kidnapped Me But You Don't Even Want Me For Hostage After I Pulled A Boston Tea Party On Your Week's Worth of Gruel and Now I'm On Probation

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Salvage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21116591) by [MuffinLance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance). 



> okay wait i'm rereading my chapter and i feel like there ar some parallels with another fic i've read in terms of:
> 
> -kageyama climbing the ship mast while having a fever  
> -a firebender being dragged aboard a water tribe ship  
> -kageyama being the firelord's son
> 
> This fic i'm pretty sure i was inspired from is called "salvage" by muffin lanec (it's so freaking good yall i would def go check it out)
> 
> i didn't mean to look like i'm ripping off of them, i'm so sorry if it seemed like that!! i love them as an author and i read all thier works ajdkslf. i do definitely plan on making my fic very different from the general idea of a firebender being stuck on a ship though (like i wanna work with hinata and kuroo being toph etc) so i definitely didn't mean to make it seem like i'm copying them!!!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/21116591/chapters/50249441 -- "salvage" by muffinlance! i'd definitely read this yall it's so so freaking good and they do a lot of culture development
> 
> \------------
> 
> this is the first fic i've ever indented bc i don't know how to fucking indent on this website so now im just copying and pasting a bunch of spaces how tf do people indent what
> 
> :((( okay wait this first chapter is SUPER long and i'm so sorry lol it's like. mostly like dialogue/background, and it's kinda important so i'd really aprpeciate if you read all of it (but dw i totally understand if you don't LMAO)
> 
> haha the length of my chapters always make me so nervous bc i feel like the length makes people lose patience/interest lol can yall please comment if you think there's too much like. thinking/dialogue processes that seem boring? bc i think this is a pattern in all my fics wehre i just ramble and i struggle to cut it down OOF
> 
> i'll definitely try and shorten chapters after the first one OOF
> 
> also!!  
>  _i feel like it's important to note_  
>  \- all the first years are around 14-15, kageyama is just young lol  
> \- and everyone else is way older- like the third years are around 20, the second year kids are around maybe 17-18

"I have a kid."

Ukai stares. "...Congratulations."

At this, Daichi squints, something stirring behind his look of what Ukai is pretty sure to be unfair judgement. "Wait. I- no. Not _me_ , like I found a kid."

"We're in the middle of the ocean, I feel like me thinking you reproduced and had a kid or just in general had a kid beforehand is reasonable," Ukai grumbles. It's too early for him to waste substance on a smoke, but, his hands are trembling by this point and he doesn't know if it's from the cold or sudden and rather concerning mild homicidal annoyance. Either way, all he know should is that both reasonings can be easily solved by a quick billow.

“We found him in our fishing nets."

Ukai stares for an unnervingly quiet minute, and within precisely those sixty seconds he simultaneously experiences all seven stages of grief.

“I don’t like it. Put it back.”

Daichi appears majorly unimpressed by his orders, though, to be fair, Ukai isn’t entirely sure. Many would say that the years between them would simply strengthen their bond- that they would have a sense of clarity with each other. 

All he knows is that his in ten years of knowing Daichi- of practically _raising_ him- only blurred any introspective ability of his (1) singular brain cell to figure out if Daichi's regrets and reevaluation of life choices are directed at him, or at himself. Daichi is at least 8.3% of his reasons for stressing, and at most 100% in cultivating Ukai's inability to give a shit about the eleven other kids he's babysitting.

“He’s from Fire Nation.” Daichi pauses, squinting through the darkness. “Or maybe red is just his colour,” Daichi continues, gracefully ignoring Ukai’s indirect order of first-degree murder. "I mean. His hair is very dark."

"...It's almost like dark hair is genetically dominant in all populations," Ukai replies dryly. And Ukai relishes in his seniority, considering how if he was anyone else, Daichi probably would've already decked him in the face with their ship's anchor. "But yeah, he has to be Fire Nation." Has to be- red is _definitely_ not his colour. Unless if this boy has no concept of self-consciousness, there's no way a kid would willingly review his outfit and say 'yes, leaving the house dressed in six and three-quarters different shades of uncooperative red is a great idea.'

Ukai attempts to identify the rest of the boy's features, but the moonlight provides little light, only enough to map a general landscape of his hollow visage, sculpted with blocky blues underneath the night sky. "Is he a bender?”

“Unsure. But either way, he's definitely sick. Possibly a fever.” Daichi shrugs, prodding the inwardly curled figure with the toe of his boot, provoking the unconscious boy into shuddering, a pitiful shiver that racks his bones to play a melody of auditory clacks. And Ukai, despite the fact that he's five seconds away from frisbeeing the boy into the waters by his twiggy legs because he's a damn problem at _one in the morning_ , still feels something knot the pits of his guts. “Fire Nation can’t last in the cold that long, and I think the fever is bad. Like, _bad_ bad. Maybe we should wake up the rest of the crew to-”

“No, I-” And Ukai has an intense flashback to the previous afternoon when Tanaka nearly dumped an entire barrel of wine overboard.

The reasoning was due to his fear that the wine was expired.

That the _wine_ was expired.

“I don't think I can handle it. Literally just. Just don't." he admits with a groan, and Daichi, possibly the only other person who can accurately understand his pain of being a overtime nanny for kids who used to snort crushed sugarcubes, glances at him sympathetically. “For now, we should bundle him up.”

“Okay, yeah, but like." Daichi is now doing that face; the one that's usually reserved for especially Tanaka, because whenever his friend does something with questionable forethought, Daichi would always stand in the background and squint really hard as if he's near-sighted. "Okay, what I'm going to say is going to sound really bad-"

"That's like anything any of you guys say-"

"But. If he happened to die from the fever it’d be expected, and nonviolent, and like. He _is_ Fire Nation, and it wouldn't be directly killing him.” Daichi suggests lightly; objectively. "I'm not suggesting it _,_ or saying it's morally justifiable- kinda." Ukai snorts. "But I'm saying it’s one of those options that should be decided right now if it’s even going to have a seat on the table.”

The implications are there.

Fire Nation is cruel. Their apathy is the reason why his he's one of the few middle-aged men in his tribe, after it was raided for benders or ground fighters to prevent rebellion. 

No one would judge him for letting a Fire Nation citizen succumb to his sickness: such a small merciless act is a drop in the sea of immorality an average Fire Nation citizen bathes in at the end of a long day. 

_But it's murder, isn’t it?_

Ukai knows murder when he sees it: has enough experience to believe he has the earned credibility behind his judgement. 

And letting a child's fever pitch to the temperature of unrecoverable, knowing full well they could've stopped it beforehand- that's nothing short than a purposeful kill. It's premeditated murder that he believes falls underneath the type that nations would use on their war prisoners, on the poor population, on the disadvantaged: murder that's disguised as something unfortunate but blameless. It may not be even deserved, as he stares at the boy- but it may be the smartest thing to do, because Ukai has seen the frothy sneers spat from Fire Nation children as young as ten, screaming murder. 

This kid looks old enough to have a body count already. 

This kid also looks old enough to be Tsukishima's age. He's definitely a child- a child whose lanky build and choked hiccups are muted by his own physical fragility. And Ukai can just _tell_ that he can’t be that much older than even Yachi.

But then there's the child's origins to consider. Even if people are intrinsically good- this boy is clearly old enough to be raised to know the difference between right and wrong. And Fire Nation instills their morals from a young age; it’s undeniable that the boy must be corrupted by their ideals at this age. That nation's entire moral compass is screwed to follow only fools' gold and the artificial magnets they created out of human hubris.

Once the boy wakes up, there’s no use talking with him- he's Fire Nation and he'll view them the way his country does.

Ukai takes a second. "You know what, with all the time we have, we're going to use it wisely. Sleeping on this decision is the best idea- there's no point in worrying ourselves over time when we're stuck on this ship for the next couple days."

"Oh. That's a wise proverb, who made it?"

"Me."

Daichi all of a sudden, looks a little less impressed. Rude.

But, it really _is_ wise to sleep on it; if Ukai is forced to deal with an unofficial funeral or decision making based on morality at one in the morning, he will literally take something (someone) out with the nearest half-cracked oar.

"Keep him.” Ukai says with finality. “We won’t waste medical resources on him-” can’t _afford_ to, because they’re in the middle of watery nowheres where their medical herbs won’t grow, “but make sure he sleeps next to the boiler,” he sighs. In his head, he's already rattling down the list of resources that's dwindling because Asahi is accident-prone, Tanaka keeps trying to square up with sharks in the parking lot of coral reefs, and Nishinoya has no concept of self-preservation or that lightning is Not Good. 

Damn. Well, he wonders if they'll even have enough medical supplies to last them through the trip to the nearest port. It seems as if the boy would have to recover through old techniques, anything they can risk to waste, and a prayer or two.

Ukai suddenly feels harbored pity for the kid.

“You want to save him? A Fire Nation citizen?” Daichi concludes, and there's something tight in Daichi's voice. Ukai doesn't know if he's for or against the idea. 

“I never said that, I just don’t want to let him die because I didn't value a human life as one should.” And Daichi falls quiet. Daichi isn’t merciful past reason, so his willingness to consider Ukai’s words holds heavy validation. For a young man who isn't even in his mid-twenties, there's a silent sense of reliability and empathy that ties in with his naivety and maturity.

 _Or. Or I'm giving him too much credit because I compare his clean slate of not accidentally killing all of us to how many tallies his friends' have, which by default is already sketchy._ After all, Daichi did splinter the wheel the other day after descending into a state of pseudo-depression for failing to strangle Asahi by their sails' ropes. But. Then again, Asahi himself was the one who accidentally lit their entire supply of weasewhale oils and nearly killed all of them in an coffin of hell, which in the end, _none_ of them even died, so what's the point? 

Ukai respires deeply, unsure if there's a yawn mixed with his exhale, before he erases his mind of literally everyone's existence on the ship. Just the thought of them is giving him a migraine. “Well. Daichi, do you have any disagreements?” Not like they'd matter- he's already decided to keep the kid alive. He vaguely wonders if he's doing this simply because he knows Fire Nation would leave any other nation's child to rot, and this is him being petty. Whatever. His little display of mercy might not be entirely out of the good of his heart, but it's still because he understands life's intrinsic value- the right to spit at Fire Nation's name is simply a bonus. A bonus that he intends to reap for self-satisfaction because fuck living by humility; that's for cowards.

“I mean,” Daichi murmurs, a calloused finger exfoliating the bridge of his nose with a sharp rub. “When he wakes up, no matter who he is, bender or not, he’ll be too weak to fight us.” He pauses. “But if he is a _fire_ bender, what do we do with one on a _wooden_ ship? Hopefully the sickness by morning will still be strong enough to keep him incapacitated."

"Yeah, and if we do go up in flames, at least we'll be warm." Ukai snaps his fingers. "So it’s settled-” And Ukai's knees are already buckling at the thought of returning to bed. God he didn't even _want_ to carry the Karasuno expedition- but he's the oldest young male of their tribe that could successfully wrangle ~~Nishinoya~~ the oldest of the kids, who the tribe determined to send along since they needed to have "experience" of the outside world.

If anything, Ukai's been on this ship for two weeks and he's the one who's experiencing a stroke every five seconds, while the children are the ones who are so bored of daily life on the sea that they resorted to gambling with passing on their chores as the prize. It's been less than a week, and they've only hit a couple ports to successfully seek trade and enough supplies, but they can't find _medicine._ Stuff that they can't grow in their cold environment, and they have to sail geographically farther to reach a region where it's suitable for foreign vegetation.

However, all of the kids have an attention spam of a salted cracker and Fears no Laws of this Land. 

A testament to that would be when Tanaka tied a rope around Nishinoya and send him plunging into the icy depths of the water, to go "fishing".

Nishinoya returned with pneumonia, a water-sodden boot that's hosting its own fungi that he affectionately christened 'Hotsauce', and a rash. Said unidentifiable rash has yet to go away and is now named 'Dave', also by Nishinoya. He also puked salty water all over the deck.

Tanaka has been on deck duty for the past four days.

Ukai feels his brain broil on an open flame at that recollection of Tanaka and Nishinoya, the two of them probably being in more than three-fourths of his flashbacks that'll be played to him ten seconds before his death. And then, he remembers the matter at hand: an unconscious possible Firebender who's been fished out of the water since Daichi was checking the fishing nets they released against the side of the boats.

Daichi had screamed, thinking he literally dragged a corpse.

Something that Ukai's more surprised didn't happen. 

Ukai doesn't go down the thought about what'd happen to the boy if Daichi coincidentally didn't check just minutes ago; if the boy was just an hour longer in the frozen depths of the water.

“You think he'll make it?" Daichi murmurs, as he begins to scoop up the boy.

Ukai watches as the boy sags over the arms around his waist, and thunks against the deck, his head making an unexpected yet concerning hollow sound as it clocks the boards. 

He squints judgmentally as he watches Daichi nearly snap the boy's spine as he tries to bundle up the rest of the body dripping over his hold, like the boy is made of malleable matter.

"Do you need help."

_"No."_

"Okay," Ukai replies slowly. "So, if the boy doesn't die from the brain damage you're giving him at the moment," Daichi's signature threatening smile plasters across his ironed expression, "I guess we agree to keep his presence a secret from the others' until he wakes up? And if he doesn't wake up," Ukai shrugs and jerks a thumb to the ocean, "ocean."

 _Ocean._ The implications of that will be lost between them and the ocean itself, never to be clarified aloud- because who would ever inquire directly whether or not they're tossing a boy into an ocean?

And Ukai blinks, glancing at Daichi’s silhouette only outlined by the glossy moon hung in the sky by a single, frayed snippet of yarn. He averts his gaze from the familiar shape, and into the unknown. The sea is dark, the water as dark and glossy as grass jelly breaking into slush, and soft chunks of obsidian and diamonds against cheap chalkboard.

He has deep respect for the ocean: how it does whatever it wants and humans cannot do anything about it, how the moon guides it yet the moon is nothing more than a cardboard cutout on human earth because mortals cannot see past its physical presence. How the ocean preserves bodies and secrets and is reliable in that way, but unreliable because of its apathy.

He’d rather have people find his body mangled and disemboweled than be lost in the ocean while temporarily intact.

* * *

And _oh_ . He’s _young_. When they tore away the padded armor and sopping coat of the boy, it reveals an even smaller frame, crooked with broad, unstable shoulders hunched and tilted by the weight of the world rested on them, and a ribcage that seems too big. 

Ukai grimaces.

The boy looks like a raw chicken.

The skin dipping between the ribs accentuate their shape, and they almost look like a closed claw, ripping towards the harsh cut of his waist, the hand big enough yet _too big_ that if Ukai placed his own hand over it and _pushed-_ it'd crack open to reveal things that never should be seen.

It's the body of a child that will snap under the pressure of an adult.

He ignores the discolouration of scars that never properly healed, and the lines that snared the boy's back with caves and dips; the burns that maps his upper-arm into a traceable maze. He's not surprised that a Fire Nation child already bears so many bruises and scars- he's probably a part of the army, a soldier despite looking so young.

Ukai feels something frothy slosh in the pits of his intestines, as he substitutes Yachi in for the boy's situation. Or Yamaguchi- or Tsukishima. 

The boy already has patches, suggesting very old burns (likely considering how he _can_ prove there are fresh burns inflicted on his body), or just really unfortunate birthmarks. 

And then there's _the_ burn™, ugly around an eye. 

_If the body doesn't decay underneath the pressure then_ , and Ukai pauses, his eyes drifting to the boy once more (odd, he _decides), maybe it just adapts._

“It’s." Daichi lazily flicks a finger towards the scarred eye. "It looks to be healed like months before now, but at the same time, it's soft.”

“How do you know it’s soft?” Ukai frowns, his brows pinching together. “I. Did you touch the scar?”

At this, Daichi narrows his eyes. “Okay, don’t tell me you aren’t curious-”

“I mean, not curious enough to touch some random guy’s _scar_ like that's weird of you-"

“It looked soft! Like a brain!”

 _“How do you know what a brain looks like_ -”

“Like you’ve never cut open a mondeer’s head.”

“I- those are poisonous? _What_? Did you touch the mondeer’s brain too-”

“Stop it! You always make things weird,” and before Ukai can continue bullying his young right-hand, Daichi begins stripping the boy’s socks, his nose scrunching at the sickening slop the material makes as it hits the floor. “We definitely don’t have clothes his size.” All of their youngest teenagers are still back at home, watching over the elderly and the young. "He's _tall_ , while carrying him his knees whacked me in the head-"

"I know. It was the only good thing that happened this morning." And Daichi looks mildly offended.

"Anyways. He might fit Suga's clothes, but either way, there’s no way he can wear these," he wrinkles his nose at a soaked sock. "He’ll freeze.”

“I mean. If he does freeze-”

“See, you can’t say that out loud because then a simple implication turns manslaughter into premeditated murder-”

“Do you think this conversation is gruesome?” Ukai intervenes, glancing at his knobby knuckles. “Seems pretty normal, doesn’t it?”

“I mean. For the majority of any population in this era, I’m pretty sure this is the norm,” Daichi replies casually, opposingly nonchalant towards Ukai’s internalised spiral of morality and what’s _okay_ and appropriate as a _human._ _Moon and Stars_ he loves Daichi and Daichi is the _potential_ of everything their tribe could become if raised _just right-_

But he’s not constantly burdened with the responsibility of dictating what is right and wrong. He's not the chief, a person who everyone turns to for answers, and a person who for at least more than 69% of the inquires responds with bullshit pulled straight out of their asscrack. 

“The boiler is definitely much warmer,” Daichi comments, and Ukai agrees. Underneath his layers of furs and coats he wore for their nightshift, he feels his pits and crooks clam in an enclosed room where all the fuel is burned. “Think the boy might set fire to the oven and pipes?”

“Well, if he blows up the ship and hopefully us, at least the war will be the least of our problems.” And he enjoys Daichi. If not for Daichi, when would he ever get to say things like that as chief? Then again, his current crew is rather unprofessional in general, encouraging random jokes and need to try and judo it out on his front deck in their own concept of what they’ve illegally validated as communication. “Here,” and he helps to unstick the boy’s shirt, the material stretched from holding so much water. He recoils at how cold it feels against his dry hands. “Just layer him with furs, I guess.”

“What if he suffocates under all that?” 

“Tragic.”

And for the second time that night, Ukai wonders if Daichi’s flatted expression is meant for him, or for himself for being in this position.

* * *

Oikawa pauses. Then he squints. He jackknifes upright, swiveling around. “Oi-” he shouts, and at this, his entire crew positively ignores his presence.

Fucking rude.

“Where’s the child?”

At this, a few of them do pause, though, the majority continue to refuse to acknowledge Oikawa’s existence, because they’re ungrateful juniors that Oikawa should toss overboard. A couple of them gesture towards Kindaichi, who at the sudden attention, vaguely looks as if he actually does want Oikawa to helicopter him by the ankles into the water. “Where’s Tobio-chan?” He specifies impatiently. He ignores how Kindaichi nearly goes boneless in relief. 

“Maybe he ran away.” Iwaizumi murmurs placidly. “In other words," he arches an eyebrow, mild in comparison to its usual furrow, "what did _you_ do.”

“Hey, if Tobio-chan was to run away, it’d be because he _knows_ he’ll always be in the shadow because of me,” Oikawa mocks, however, his gaze doesn’t fixate on his audience, and is rather searching through the rest of the dining hall. And Fire Nation _don’t_ just _not_ wake up early- their bodies follow the sun’s path, it’s biological: undeniable.

So even though Tobio-chan definitely falls asleep mid afternoon when the sky is foggy and clouds candied the harsh sun into spun sugar- he’d be awake by now. Especially for breakfast. And to greet his favourite older cousin who accidentally got banished alongside him that one time. And to greet him in _general_ because what the fuck- aren’t they _trying_ to be something past their glares and awkward contempt? Sure they had their distancing in the past as Oikawa crudely shoved him aside, but that's different now.

It had to be different, after Oikawa returned to the royal palace to request a meeting with the Fire Lord over new military plans, and found out his cousin was bedridden.

More than once, even now, Oikawa wonders if Tobio is lying when he reassures Oikawa that his left eye isn't blind.

Oikawa thinks the worst part was that he only found out because he happened to coincidentally come visit his uncle that same week Tobio was injured (and sometimes, Oikawa stays awake, wondering if other versions of himself didn't come home. He'd trace the tarred wooden wall next to his bolted bed, breath and finger bolted stilled as he thinks about other realities that consisted of him never finding out about Tobio, and consequently leaving his cousin to be banished on his own).

The second worst thing about coming home to seeing Tobio like this was his own reaction. _Oh_ , Oikawa spent so long hating the image of his cousin and the possibilities he personified despite them never cultivating underneath the crushing weight of his sister's overwhelming natural talent and his father's absence of faith. It was an ingrained and unfair resentment- possibly even something inherent in Oikawa, a genetic and diseased jealousy. It was strong enough that he initially didn't feel anything past pity for the boy. He watched Tobio's unconscious figure with polite pity that a stranger would feel for a beggar.

Because even with his hate, it was natural he felt bad- Tobio was withering in bed without proper herbal sedatives against a racking fever from his burn's splintering infection.

Then Oikawa heard it was from an Agni-Kai, a battle. Which meant one of his own people placed a hand on a fourteen-year-old and ignited their palm, holding it there long enough to practically melt away Tobio's skin, nearly boiling the protein of his eye into eggwhites. And the objective pity twisted into something personal, and perhaps it's awful that Oikawa didn't initially feel this way, especially for someone he had a childhood with _(and the boy was sobbing for his dead mom, sweat plastered against his forehead and bandages crusty around his eye_ and Oikawa just watched), but the internalised fear of _losing_ manifested an anger in him. An anger so blinding that took something as startling as one of his own people purposefully branding a kid in the eye to shake off and _stop being a dumbass_. 

But even with that development, Tobio-chan, being the reclusive and stubborn child, has yet to tell Oikawa exactly _how_ did he end up escalating a situation into a literal official battle held by the royal government. Either it's out of spite, or maybe he’s just being Tobio-chan whose emotions constipates his guts in a concoction of sugared cement. Either way, Oikawa is not close enough to tell which one is more likely.

He _is_ however, closer than he was just a couple months ago, so it's _inexcusable_ that Tobio isn't seeking him out right _now_ , especially so late into the morning.

It's somewhat nauseatingly endearing. Tobio displays coldness and obvious wariness towards Oikawa after abandoning him to the rest of his family- something that Oikawa _knows_ wasn't ( ~~cash money)~~ very _nice_ of him to do, though even now at night he recalls the mortifying satisfaction seeing how much Tobio fell because _he_ walked away. So Oikawa takes Tobio's indignation and defensive arrogance in stride- it's deserved. 

But Tobio still acts like _Tobio-chan_. Even now, fourteen and no longer ten, currently going through an emo phase, still clings onto him. Oikawa notices how Tobio orbits around his range, in spite of his learnt caution. Tobio, for the past month they've been trying not to kill each other on this ship for, has this unspoken sense of comfortableness out of familiarity with him.

Oikawa tries not to feel a possessive sense of superiority from it. 

And though Tobio's no longer physically close to him, he's still always _there_ , his presence having the same silent existence as it was when he was ten (though, Oikawa easily argues that ten-year-old Tobio was much cuter, since he had unabashed adoration worn on his glittering expression). Tobio is constantly following Oikawa around, listening in on Oikawa's conversations, and even being _acknowledged_ in those conversation; the rest of the crew on _The Se_ _ijou_ has adapted to Kageyama's presence like he's a shy waterdog who'd piss on their shoes if they breathe, even though the boy literally _drives everyone mad_. 

Oikawa couldn't even be pissed about Kyoutani's reaction to Kageyama's incessant asking as to exactly _why_ Kyoutani's hair looked like bleached pulled pork, which resulted in Kyoutani screaming rather loudly in the middle of Kageyama's rambling, and then kicking the nearest chair so hard one of its legs gave out. Kyoutani then turned to Kageyama, and pointing to the disarmed (dislegged?) chair, claimed that was an accurate representation of what he'd do to Kageyama's kneecaps if he didn't 'shut the fuck up'. 

Then Kageyama looked so blatantly guilty despite the fact that he can only like, visibly process 2.3% of his emotions that aren't anger, that Kyoutani, who does not apologise for anything, had actually patted him on the head, and proceeded to grunt that he wouldn't hit Kageyama's knees _that_ hard. Unfair, considering how Kyoutani appears consistently unperturbed by the fact that Oikawa has caught him staring at him from across the deck more than once, looking like he wanted to bury Oikawa's body out by a cabin in the middle of the woods.

Oikawa to this day has no idea how the _fuck_ Kyoutani appeared on his ship- he just woke up one day to the kid staring at him from the corner of his bedroom, chewing on his fountain pen, and Oikawa nearly burned down his entire room. When he confronted Iwaizumi about the intruder, Iwaizumi simply said 'yeah' and now, Kyoutani is stealing _both_ his Iwa-chan _and_ Tobio-chan.

However, Kageyama has taken an unfortunate and unexpected _liking_ to Kyoutani back, trodding behind him at times, probably because Kyoutani is expressive of his own dislikes, which reassures Kageyama that if the boy was truly annoyed at him, he'd be rather honest about it.

It's honestly frustratingly _cute_ , if not concerning, the extent of Kageyama's social ineptness. He's even oblivious to his own clear attachment to Oikawa, his cousin he probably disowned and made voodoo dolls of to drown in his toilet (after all, Kageyama's sister, Azula, is a literal psychopath, so there's no way Kageyama himself isn't a mildly alarming specimen himself).

Oikawa takes note of the position of the sun. Almost everyone's done eating breakfast.

A nice and sunny day. 

Where the _fuck_ is the child.

Tobio-chan better greet him with a bow for being so late. They’re just _that_ friendly.

After all, self-disowning yourself to make sure your stupid unintentionally-suicidal cousin doesn’t die on a foolish errand to ‘find the Avatar’ is a rather bold step that’s guaranteed to move _any_ relationship.

Including his and Iwa-chan’s.

Iwaizumi, the son of his dad’s knight, who he has known since he was a child, is meant to be Oikawa's impulse control.

So it's rather alarming that Oikawa's only source of stability against his brain processing speed of like .008 miles per hour, just proved himself to be as stupidly compulsive as he is _._

Really, Iwaizumi really just ran away, feet ruddy and cracked and scowl splitting wrinkles against his face, and whacked Oikawa _hard_ , before sneaking on board the creaky soapbox of a ship that the Firelord granted his disgraced son. And though Oikawa hasn't checked in with port gossip yet, he's _pretty_ sure that there are already rumours circulating about the disappearance of the youngest son from the monarchy's family of treasured knights.

Oikawa wonders exactly how much _worse_ the famous Iwaizumi's name would tarnish, if the world found out their heir decided to join the disgraced _prince_ , as well as a disappeared (last Oikawa heard from port gossip, he was considered 'kidnapped' by mainstream speculation) noble son of the Oikawa branch. Wait until they hear that they're searching for a literal _myth._ Oikawa sighs, and leans slightly back on his chair, humming to its creak. _Avatar._

Oikawa wonders if the Firelord is really that good of a father (then, he recalls Kageyama's intense attachment to the Firelord, his aggressive defense of his Father's actions, and decides that if Kageyama loves him that much, it'd be disrespectful of Oikawa to consider him a bad father). Finding the Avatar? The Avatar who was missing for almost a hundred years?

The fuck? Is Tobio-chan gullible or dumb? 

Right: he’s fucking _both,_ with a failed braincell product of mitosis functioning at the speed of photosynthesis in a dark room. That is, if photosynthesis truly is a thing; the medical textbook and theories concerning that branch christened 'biology' isn't widely accepted.

Well, Oikawa personally loves the idea of plants deciding to fuck it and just make their own food, so he's all for it. 

But. _Avatar._

The fuck. The Avatar's probably some hideous old hag who had no sense of responsibility for the world of their people. And yet Firelord, his uncle, sent Tobio to go find them. He doesn't know why, but according to Tobio, he's been banished because his father's hand was forced to (whatever the fuck _that_ means, because his father is the Firelord whose hand is usually the forcer itself, but then again politics are always sketchy), and he was told he could return if they find the Avatar.

Oikawa wonders when Kageyama will realise there's no Avatar. No Avatar that they'd want, either, if it really is some irresponsible jackass.

Oikawa nearly kills his tongue with how hard he clacks his teeth together in disapproval at his thoughts of Tobio and his naivety. Recovering quickly from probably the worst pain he's ever endured, he turns to Iwaizumi. “U-gh, _Iwa-chan,_ ” and Oikawa inwardly snickers as one of Iwaizumi’s neat brows jerk harshly against its tanline. “I miss Tobio-chan.” And Oikawa knows his pride, justified through his own abilities and efforts, just months ago would’ve shuttered at Tobio’s name, would’ve bolted down a sneer and defensive retort. 

Now he’s griping Tobio’s name because- get this, here’s where his ‘justified’ part comes- he ran away from the Fire Nation monarchy for him! Whoo! He doesn't want to be publicly denounced to his people; Oikawa is loyal to his country and dutifully prays for the war outcome to result in peace and the dismantling of disruption between nations.

However, he can't just _leave_ Tobio alone. Especially after four years.

And he's seen what Azula turned out like. He witnessed the descent her mindstate, as well. 

It's terrifying, seeing her now.

And quite frankly, in spite of his previous efforts, of being the best, of being acknowledged and never _forgotten_ as someone who fought for his country, who went past what his best could ever do, he can't do it. There's no future in him being in the Fire Nation politics.

He was christened the 'Dragon of the West', the youngest general and swordfighter to ever conquer the Earth Nation's Ba Sing Se wall at the age of seventeen.

That was four years ago, and then right after that, Oikawa's entire leg was shattered and it never healed properly- he could still be war general, but he could never be Dragon of the West.

Oikawa wanted to cease to exist the way all his efforts did. It's such a fucking _waste_ and he has _nothing_ if he isn't Dragon of the West; he isn't anything and he doesn't want to be anything after such a steep recession. 

And it's been four years, four years of locking himself in his room in darkness that eats away at his own bending without sunlight, allowing him to decay into dust and to dissolve into rumours and _nothing_ (and more than once Oikawa contemplated just _dying_ because then at the very least his legacy would be cemented near his peak state and not as someone washed up and _useless_ and swordfighting was something he excelled at it was something he _cared_ about and he could never be that once more _because what the fuck-)_

And Oikawa returned, and he saw Tobio. 

And now he AWOLed his nation because that's always a great idea, and somehow, dragged along Iwaizumi who he hasn't seen in many years as Oikawa may or may not have had a four-year-long existential crisis only disturbed by periods of alcohol consumption and pretending like fiber is Optional™.

Wow. Oikawa reflects on his teenage years and wonders exactly where everything went wrong, and how come he apparently lost moutivation to even catch up with how Fire Nation's been doing in the war after his kneecap shattered faster than his future. All he's literally done was have a continuous mid-life (more like near-end-life at that time) crisis after nights of listening to traitorous thoughts of whether or not they're _really_ doing the best things in this war. "Hey, Iwa-chan, you think I've been making out-of-character decisions?"

"Considering how all of your decisions are still shitty, I'd say no."

Oikawa promptly ignores that- he doesn't have time for Iwaizumi's affection right now. "Maybe Kageyama is below deck?" Oikawa muses aloud. "Think he's trying to find Radish?" Radish, like every other animal, hates Kageyama with as much as their two-point-four foot bodies could handle emotions. What's really unfortunate is that Radish has fangs, and a temper after Kyoutani nearly whacked it in the face with the nearest broom. 

It's been a month of sailing and they also have no idea where Radish came from- they just know they can't _get rid of it,_ and it's a fucked-up bird of some sort with four eyes that swivel in opposing directions on command, and it can _crawl_. 

"If Kageyama found Radish, then we'd be hearing screaming from both sides," Iwaizumi answers reasonably, stirring his congee, preoccupied with a card game that Kindaichi taught. Kindaichi, who they picked up from a port with promises to pay with gold Oikawa looted from his father's house, is literally useless. However, he's definite entertainment, ranging from his own reactions and instinctive need to play dead whenever Oikawa walks by, to an impressive knowledge of various card games and stories he's picked up around his home's international port. 

Sure, he can't tell scurvy and yellow fever apart, but then again, Oikawa has seen Hanamaki having a nervous breakdown over whether or not orange peels were edible, so there's that. And then there's Kyoutani, who Oikawa doesn't even _know_ how he got on the ship, but he just _won't leave_. It's frankly concerning but Iwaizumi has somehow grown attached to the overgrown breadmold so _yeah_ , Oikawa can take what he can get. 

"-ittykawa-" and Oikawa starts, eyelids flickering like an empty lightbulb suddenly crackling with filtered light as he's hooked and reeled back into reality by the sound of his name. "Did you hear me? I said go check downstairs, and try to slip and die while going down it."

Oikawa groans. “Nah, Tobio-chan wouldn’t miss a chance for food, even for animals,” Oikawa grumbles. “And we weren’t near land these past couple days-”

“Maybe he remembered you existed and jumped overboard,” Iwaizumi says flatly.

He scoffs. “Iwa-chan, don’t be ridiculous. Could you see that happening, huh? Kageyama, jumping overboard because of me?” Oikawa snarks. Preposterous. If anyone was going to force Kageyama off the side of the ship- it's going to be _him_ , not Kageyama himself.

* * *

"Yeah, I jumped overboard because my cousin was being annoying but I didn't actually think I was going to jump and instead I slipped and fell over the railing."

Finishing that story, he stares at the two men. One of them, the younger one who can’t be that much older than Kageyama himself, has his lips pressed thinly, a finger against it. Kageyama wonders why he's recounting this story- shouldn't they know? Shouldn't Oikawa know?

And the airwaves around him are _squiggly_ , but Kageyama forcefully squints to try and peer through the curtain of ripples. No. That's not Oikawa. Probably. 

And he slowly slides his eyes over to the other not-Oikawa. This not-Oikawa looks like he’s the type of person who’d mug a person with a stapler, and is now burying his head into the heels of his hands. _Stapler._ Kageyama knows what a stapler is.

And he stares at the indents of his hands. Are those staplers too?

And Kageyama does not know where he is, or why he must repeat that. He probably _didn’t_ fall off- or maybe he did, or maybe the colours melting like wax against the corners of his vision are lying. Either way, it’s hot.

He doesn’t know if he said that out loud, but he can feel his lips part, and something billows out between them, something hot and moist that seeps and evaporates against his skin, and _he’s very warm_.

"Hey, kid-” Kageyama hums at the disjointed words that he cannot digest. “Kiddo?” And surely the fairies can’t mean _him,_ right? However, Kageyama rounds to the source of the voice. Oikawa is staring back at him. Oh, he didn’t fall off.

Good. 

Father would've punished him if he ever heard.

“Father?”

That’s not his voice, but did he still say that out loud? Who’s saying ‘Father’? _Obviously you are, dumbass._

* * *

Daichi’s mouth is dry, and he slowly sucks in his lips out of judgement at the boy who collapsed after promptly calling Ukai a 'dumbass', after mumbling about his dad.

“Fever?” Ukai begins, jaw clutched in an obvious attempt to tame an irritated twitch.

And Daichi doesn’t even have to reel through what he just witnessed, or the red blending against the boy’s dewy skin to say conclusively: “fever.”

* * *

Daichi stops from where he's grabbing a bucket of cooled, boiled water to place a new a wet cloth over the fevered boy's head, to stop. "Wait, what if he's _not_ Fire Nation? His eyes are _blue_ and I don't think that's possible-"

"Why not?" Chief Ukai inclines his head in unison with rolling his smoking pipe between his teeth.

"I mean. All Fire Nation citizens have yellow eyes it's not normal for there to be any blue-"

"Daichi. I never thought things had to come to this, or I had to tell you," Chief Ukai begins, sighing as he displaces his pipe, and Daichi freezes. Is there some heritage or background story to Fire Nation he wasn't aware of? Setting down his bucket of water, he walks closer to Ukai.

"See, Daichi. Genetics. It happens when a man, loves a woman-"

Daichi doesn't let his captain continue explaining, as he slaps a particularly wet towel against Ukai's face.

* * *

"There's another _kid_ on board?"

"Whaa, how old?"

And Daichi wants to tell Nishinoya that maturity wise, definitely older, but then he pauses. The Fire Nation intruder, upon waking up from his literal two-day coma, turned to Daichi, called him "Shittykawa", and then proceeded to cry in an emotional breakdown that left Daichi awkwardly smoothing his back before the kid asked him why he was trying to apply lotion on his back, and if he got another burn with mild disinterest, something that vaguely distresses Daichi.

Then, the kid tried to bite him, and Daichi felt Nothing for the boy.

And Daichi knows it's not a lucid seasick-induced dream because even after he pinched himself- _hard_ , there are a set of teeth-shaped indents against his forearm, and they turned _black_. What the _heck_. For a second, Daichi wondered if the boy truly was a bender, and he charred his teeth against his forearm.

Somehow, knowing that the bruising is simply because the boy bit him, is grossly more terrifying than the idea of bending.

At least Nishinoya doesn't give him a skin disease when he resorts to biting.

"I mean. He looks older than you," chirrups Sugawara, who was the only member other than Daichi and Ukai to actually go see the kid for himself. Gesturing flippantly towards Nishinoya's yelp of rambles, Sugawara clasps his hands together. "Ah, he's so out of it, you know. I tried to feed him soup and he spat it out at me, calling me 'Oikawa', saying that I should've known he hated soup." And Daichi doesn't need to even observe his friend's body language, so much just hear the grit in Sugawara's tone, that he's irritated and probably five seconds away from hitting someone with the nearest chair. "Ha. If he starves to death, then that'd be unfortunate but most definitely his choice-" 

"Is this about the blue-eyed kid with black hair?" Kiyoko blinks, inclining her head slightly. 

"Oh, you saw him?" Daichi unfolds his arms, surprised.

"Yeah. Saw him hanging upside down from the sail ropes." 

Daichi takes a second, and then looks up.

A figure in the distance, long and black-haired, swinging by frayed ropes knotting his ankles into a giant tangle, is dangling hundreds of feet above him. And now that he's staring in his general direction, Daichi can definitely pick up very faint, very distant, very explicit screams smothered by the wind.

"Aw, shit."

* * *

The kid is a fucking _menace._

Probably cursed, too. 

Ukai sighs, and gnaws harder on the strip of sandalwood, the fiber being the only thing preventing his teeth from clacking together into paste.

“Hm. Okay.” Is Daichi’s only response, before he walks over to his own hammock and collapses, utterly indifferent to the fact that the entire bunker is currently filled with smoke. 

Ukai waits.

Ignoring Daichi who just died, Ukai muses how it's been only three days since they've taken care of the kid- with two of those days _the kid wasn't even fucking alive,_ but he's already proven himself to have the attention spam of a medicated Nishinoya, and that he Fears No God other than Himself™. The kid also adopted the concept of being able to what no one but god can do, considering how he's _very_ intent on scrambling off board, or getting into places that should physically be impossible to even consider as plausible. 

He scowls, and turns to the said threat to humanity (as both a fire nation citizen and as a clear vessel for possession of karma), currently towering over Kinoshita who’s muffling sobs into his palm, standing absolutely still and shut-eyed next to his bed. 

Said bed is partially on fire.

Ukai chews particularly harder on his sandalwood.

"Daichi," Ukai barks, but the boy doesn't even stir.

“Well. At least we know he’s a bender.” Takeda shrugs from the side. 

"Wait, he's _fire nation?_ " Asahi yelps.

Ukai _does_ stop furiously tearing at that, and turns to Asahi blankly. "No, he's a water bender and that's why Kinoshita is currently in his own sacrificial circle of hell." Asahi stares at him blankly. He sighs. "Asahi, shut up."

"I didn't say anyth-"

"Go get water before Kinoshita puts out the fire himself by peeing his pants."

* * *

And Kageyama is _annoyed_. The boat’s swaying only serves to disperse the sweat pooling in the dips of his clothes, and his crew doesn’t respect him- thinks he’s just a child, and he wouldn’t put it past them to unceremoniously crank up the heat whenever he’s around to steam him like a pork bun.

The heat is getting to his head: it’s cramming into every cell in his brain and suffocating the plants clinging to the veins of his heart, and he can feel it crackle through his lungs, the roots twining around his sternum and into the abyssal pits of his thorax, seeking shelter against the heat crackling through the cell walls.

He blinks.

 _It’s hot today._ Just like the day before and the day before that and the hours before the first day combined with the second-

“-Kawa?” Oikawa must’ve done something. They haven’t talked in a while, and Oikawa hates him. Something got to him the same way it got to Azula.

He did something bad. He doesn’t know what, and he knows that when Oikawa returned, towering over his bedded figure and Kageyama _choked,_ something gross lit in his gut (because why is he back after years of rejection, other than to see Kageyama's ultimate failure that humiliated his entire family, leaving him vulnerable to deserved shame)-

Oikawa has been suspiciously nice. Oikawa was never really _mean_ , he just stopped liking Kageyama. He was strong, admirable, in a way, was ripped from the same clothe as his younger sister: they were both ambitious and his father wished that either one of them was his first born instead of Kageyama.

Kageyama wished so, too.

“‘Kawa,” he murmurs, the vowels cottoning the cavity of his mouth. “‘M sorry.” He doesn’t know why he’s apologising, and part of him is bitter because why should _he_ apologise (but he wants Oikawa _back_ but that's not possible they can't ever be the same-). However, he does know that somehow, Oikawa is commandeering his ship while they search for the Avatar (and at that name Kageyama nearly falls into another rabbit hole of thoughts and flashing colours as everything fragments into confusing reflections of nothing and everything at once). "I"m _really_ sorry," and he can't help it, Kageyama was never really a crier, never really understood a situation fast enough to react in such a way, but there's something _gross_ other than phlegm searing his throat, and he coughs wetly, unable to unstick it.

He exhales, and he can feel it rattle through his ribcage like it's the instrument Azula used to play before she broke it, calling it 'girlish' and stupid. He misses Azula.

“Uh. Yeah. It’s okay.” Right. Oikawa.

“You sound deeper. Did Hajime try and choke you again?”

“I’m- what? Uh. No. No. I’m just. I just have a cold. Go to sleep.”

And Kageyama scowls, hating that Oikawa _always_ does this, always tells him what to do as if he truly cares when he _doesn’t_ and even if he does then Kageyama doesn’t _want_ it because he’s not a child and _Agni_ it’s almost like everyone does this (and he is _not_ a child!) with a patronising leer and pity rusted with disgust and shudders at his reputation and _no Father I’m not a traitor_ -

“Hey, hey! Kid-”

“‘O-Kawa-” he unconsciously spits, a heat broiling his forehead simultaneously scorches his throat with regret and bile, and _oh_ his eye is _raging_ and the sun is exploding and Angi is shredded into millions of dandelion seeds all puncturing the whites of his eyes and they’re on _fire_ and-

“F-father I'm-” because what happens if Father burns his other eye? He probably _deserves_ it but- "let _go_ ," and he feels something hotter than the flames licking across his body greedily, and it's _shame_ because he just begged like a stupid child for forgiveness because he's weak and _afraid_.

(Kageyama sobs.)

“Oikawa m’sorry for being mad at you.” Was he ever mad? He doesn't know, but he just knows that Oikawa left him _alone-_ his only friend he's ever had and he just _left_ and Kageyama was pissed but he's just _sad_ he just wants him _back-_

“I.” And Oikawa sounds unsure, and Oikawa is _never_ unsure and Kageyama unlocked something in his cousin that’s unwillingly vulnerable, and that’s on _him_ and no wonder Oikawa doesn't want him. “No. It’s not your fault-”

“You should’ve stayed at home.” And the words are fueled with not just remorse- but something resentful. Kageyama flicks through the tapes of Oikawa’s coldness and isolation, a wall of searing caramel glazed over his cousin’s eyes and trapping something underneath bubbled and hardened sugar the moment Kageyama walked into his view. “You shouldn’t have ever came.”

“Sorry.”

And Kageyama scoffs, something bitter rawing his throat with firecrackers and peppercorn popcorn.

“Too late for that.” And Kageyama's attempting to strip his eyes dry with his searing palms, clammy with tears and sweat, and he's able to see a little better. "Huh. 'Kawa you look lil' different." And he's still a blur, probably because Kageyama was spinning (was he?), but he doesn't look anything like Oikawa. And _ah_ , Kageyama gets it. "Oh. Did Iwaizumi try to kill you again?"

" _What?"_

* * *

Daichi does not know who this ‘Oikawa’ is, but he’s been called that too many times that now, it feels like an unwanted identity that he responds to out of learned instinct- something the rest of the crew picked up on.

“Oi-Oikawa!” is a rather favourited verse of Tanaka, something about being able to stupidly stutter ‘oi’ at least five times. 

There’s something humiliating about the fact that it’s a promotion from being called ‘Dad’, though.

However, _Oikawa_? 

An identity forced onto him by a muttering nutcase? And Daichi doesn't know why he tolerates it, why he purposefully takes time out of his own hours to visit the kid, who doesn't even _know_ who he is and can't even identify himself past his unintelligent blatherings.

And he's Fire Nation. By a certain point, Daichi's too tired to care about age. It's not a person's fault for being born into a world conducted by manipulative lies- but it's not his responsibility to justify their actions because of it. He doesn't _care_ that this is a kid. He doesn't care that the kid is probably cruel and has intense prejudice against everyone not of his country, enough to agree with murdering others' kind, of stealing territory and slaughtering other benders. He doesn't understand why he has to empathise with being trapped in awful lies against others, simply because the boy was misinformed from birth.

The country doesn't deserve mercy for their ignorance, the same way that other nations didn't deserve genocide due to their genetics. 

So he does not feel bad for the kid shaking next to him. 

Then again, he's sitting here, with him, and he wonders if the boy even recognises his consistent appearances- of "Oikawa's" constant presence. Not like he really cares. 

Daily, he sits next to a vulnerable Fire Nation boy with eyes as foggy as the night sea and scowl as sketched as the markings Nishinoya lacerated onto their mast so he can try and draw stick figures. 

A Fire Nation boy with uncharacteristic blue eyes. Half-children don't exist; Daichi is pretty sure Fire Nation only accepts pure-bloods, and in general, the concept of interracial marriage is still rather modern in all nations.

But blue eyes just are not _there_ in Fire Nation.

The boy has some of the prettiest blue eyes he's ever seen- ones that compete against many members in his tribe, as blue eyes are as common as brown eyes in Water Nation's genetic pool.

The boy is also a _brat_ , the blue eyes doing nothing to garner sympathy from him. But, and Daichi can feel himself grossly soften at this thought, he's a rather pitiful brat. Daily, he hears the said sick boy talk every once in a while, attempt to gag out nothing every five minutes, and stare at Daichi cryptically before saying something that’s along the spawn of white noise and every cursed sketch of an artifact lost in space and time, before collapsing.

Whenever that happens, Daichi wonders if the guilt curdling within him should be scorned or accepted. Guilt for hoping that the boy ultimately succumbs to an unshakable coma. 

Daily, he learns more and more about Oikawa, since the boy is probably at least 65% of their blue-eyed trespasser's choice of topic.

Oikawa sounds like a _really_ questionable character.

Maybe it’s just him, but the trespasser suddenly bursting into tears before muttering curses at Daichi for burying him in sand (what the heck is sand?) when the boy was like, five, and then leaving him there for hours, sounds like Oikawa pulled a real dick move. 

No wonder the kid is fucking traumatised.

Then there's this _Iwaizumi_ , who sounds like a psychopath, or either someone _done_ with Oikawa, both being concerningly valid possibilities.

“‘Kawa, can I call you Tooru again?”

And because Daichi has no sympathy for this Oikawa on the receiving end of this relationship, he says ‘sure’ rather flatly. If this boy and his Oikawa ever get reunited again, he hopes he calls him ‘Tooru’ and end him with a stroke, considering how much of a drama queen his friend sounds like.

“Tooru, you’re being really nice to me. Are you mad at me?”

Daichi squints. _Is he kidding?_ The correlation between the statement and question is preposterous, then again, he doesn’t expect Fire Nation to have a good grasp on any positive emotion. “Only if you don’t finish your soup,” he nods at the onion soup that Sugawara concocted, claiming it has soothing properties for fevers.

Daichi does not believe in that, frankly because he has little to no faith in Sugawara himself, because his friend's sense of moral judgement, much less smell, is shit.

“I don’t want your soup! It tastes like shit!” At least the boy has common sense even though he's literally so out of it that he nearly drowned trying to drink a cup of water, because he forgot how to swallow. 

"Yeah, well, it's good for you."

" _You're_ not good for me." The boy _cannot_ be older than fourteen, and Daichi reminds himself to take pity on weak and young, so that he does not automatically nail the boy in the head with the empty bucket sitting in the corner of the room.

Then, Daichi takes a second. "Hey, where did you learn swears? Don’t use them-”

“ _Y_ _ou_ taught me them.”

Right. _Fucking Oikawa._

Daichi inhales. Slowly, he leaves the room despite the boy’s grating complaints about his soup, and walks up to the deck.

Approaching the railings of the ship next to where Sugawara is lounging with drink, he stares into the blue, peaceful sky.

It’s nice.

Then Daichi screams into the air, releasing all his homicidal urges in one rawing shriek, oblivious to Sugawara suddenly choking on his water.

* * *

“Oh fuck.”

And Tsukishima barely has time to see Yamaguchi’s contorted expression of disapproval right before the ice cracks in half in front of them.

“Hm. See. Literally nothing you say can convince me this is normal.” Yachi mutters, eyeing the odd sculpture bobbing freely in the water now that the ice is shattered, before shifting slightly behind Tsukishima as it floats closer to them. Kenma, another Nekoma member that Tsukishima does not feel consistent resentment for their existence against, follows her suit. 

“Isn’t this like. The circle of life?” And at that, Tsukishima pauses, and slowly, narrows his eyes. Yamaguchi appears utterly oblivious to his gaze of speculation. “You know. Stuff hatches out of eggs. Life.”

Yamaguchi is the only kid his age that Tsukishima wants to even label as a friend. 

Therefore he thinks it’d only be genuine of him as a friend, to clock him with the nearest chunk of ice to rattle his brain cells to vibrate the same wavelength as common sense. 

“Oh, that makes sense!” Lev, from a neighbouring water tribe that clearly has underfunded education, leaps upwards. 

“I? What the heck, Lev?” And Yamamoto _himself_ is already a questionable judgement of character, yet, he’s _definitely_ glowering with disappointment directed at the product of billions of years of human evolution. “The fuck do you think an egg is?”

“Haha, stop.” Yaku steps in. And it’s not a plea- it’s a threat. “You’ve already caused so much property damage,” and he gestures to where Tsukishima may or may not have destroyed the frosty landscape with accidental waterbending.

Tsukishima squints. “We are in a desert tundra, Yaku," and while Tsukishima isn't entirely comfortable with dropping honourifics with people who aren't necessarily in his tribe, he also doesn't want Yamaguchi to start lecturing about how he has to stop being 'cold' with their neighbours who insist on informality. 

Yaku rounds to him, and for a second, his entire expression laxes into something blank, his eyes glassy. Tsukishima takes a second to recognize what the unreadable depths of his gaze implies: murderous intent.

Good. Yaku better take him the fuck out before he does himself.

“Also, Tsukishima, your waterbending is that powerful?” Yuki begins, oblivious to his senior family member's look of wanting to bury Tsukishima's head into the snow like a possostrich. "I didn't know you could break thick ice already!" And though Nekoma often comes to visit even though _no one_ invited them- especially the fucking tall one, they’re still unused to the fact that a waterbender still exists.

Valid, considering how Fire Nation one day woke up and decided that genocide was suddenly on their bucket list. “Yeah," he finally answers lacklusterly.

“O-ho, Tsukki, proving himself capable of overcoming the impossible- once again!” Yamamoto chortles. 

Tsukishima reminds himself that he doesn’t have enough life insurance against Daichi to split this man’s cranium with a sharp whip of water.

“It’s not that impressive- I don’t really care for waterbending.”

“Ah, but Tsukki, it’s more convenient to be a bender than not, despite its shortcomings due to current politics,” Yachi murmurs meekly from where she’s still shy in the presence of kids their neighbours. She used to not hang out with them, mostly sticking around Kiyoko and other girls, until recently when Sugawara encouraged her to hang out with the boys her age, which were only Yamaguchi and Tsukishima. Now, she's slowly integrating into the children of the Nekoma tribe, which Tsukishima believes is nothing more than a life-scarring experience. Nekoma's boys are feral to the point where they try to burrow holes into their fallen teeth to sew as accessories through their ears with the same fishbone needle. Unsanitary _and_ stupid; two adjectives that perfectly describe them overall. 

Or it's just Yamamoto- either way, _illegal._

There are like, two people in Nekoma that seems to be a good influence (Kenma and Yaku essentially equate to one person considering their height).

However, Tsukishima also horrifyingly realised that he actually tolerated the rest of Nekoma's presence into legitimate adaptation- he evolved to the point where he feels indifferent to life or death whenever they visit. He reached this conclusion after acknowledging his insouciance to being killed in the middle of his sleep by being body-slammed into the hard snow by Nishinoya and Yamamoto, who got into a fistfight over who gets to pee first.

So he decides that Yachi isn't too far gone like he is, considering how her subconscious recoil from Yamamoto suggests she still retains her intrinsic need for survival.

Meanwhile, on the other hand, Tsukishima hopes they smash his brains in so he never has to spare another one of its cells to them ever again.

“You know, but about that ice-ball-thingy. Like.” And Yaku is approaching it with fascination, clearly interested by the odd peculiar shape the warped ice they found hidden playfully by the frozen rivers to be. “I wonder how it turned out to be this way?”

"It looks like hard candy," Kenma murmurs. 

“The sun’s setting, we should head back,” suggests Kai, who's squinting at the west. He's probably one of the few people from the Nekoma water tribe that Tsukishima does not want to deep-throat them with an ice-pick. “We should go.”

“Ah, right. We should go.” Yamamoto sighs. “Can’t keep the rest of the Karasuno tribe lonely, huh? With all of your older children- no, young adults gone on an expedition for more food, guess we’re your charity for today,” he murmurs smugly, and then, to Tsukishima’s utter moritification, a heavy weight lands across his shoulders, and a body thickened with seal fur sidles against him. 

“Get your hand off me.” 

“Nah, c’mon, show us more of your tricks, think you can bring up the water from the lake and we can catch tundra tunas in the sky?” Yamamoto snickers, arm _still_ hooked like a sentient noose around Tsukishima’s neck.

“If you don’t get your hand off of me, I’ll show you my newest trick of cracking your damn head open like it's a water chestnut.”

“Please don’t,” Yachi murmurs weakly in the background, to a shout of encouragement from Tanaka’s Holy Spirit that’s probably lounging around them in the most repressed recesses of Tsukishima’s brain.

“Damn.” Yamamoto exhales. 

Then, he rounds to Tsukishima who still has to gaze downwards at his wicked smirk and taunting expression: “kinky." And Tsukishima hears Kenma gag. 

Tsukishima probably takes the longest second he's ever had to for digesting a situation, before he feels every single cell in his body commit apoptosis while capillaries crackle through his vision. 

A chorus of screams and at least one long-note held by the long-suffering Yaku out of pure exasperation and hatred for all of mankind, punctuate the air the same time the sea behind him spews upwards like a provoked geyser (or a lactose intolerant person on a toilet who earlier ate an entire skillet of Krafts mac n’ cheese) crashes in their general direction, burrowing into everything.

Tsukishima feels Yamamoto's _stupid_ grip around him tighten, possibly out of shock, and yet, that insignificant response flares something disgusted in him because _god_ he's so _pissed_ \- and the coldness snapping his brittle bones and whittling down his corroding patience goes taunt, and then it unceremoniously _snips_ _._

And he feels the water squirm and jam into every living thing with conscious intrinsic moutivation, determined to expand into ice, shattering everything and anything and he can _hear_ Yamaguchi’s 2am sighs of disappointment™ harmonising with a hurried and breathy prayer to Mother Nature (even though she was the one who clearly _made_ Tsukishima like this so jokes on the preacher)-

Then, the rage in his subsides, almost scorching the edges of his lungs despite the way the numbness beats any representation of other emotions into a bruised mess- because he hears a crack.

A _loud_ crack. A crack that happens whenever Granny had to grab his brother’s machete to hack open at a Jelly Abalone, possessing a terrifying amount of strength that always coincides with Tsukishima watching from the other side of the room, feeling mildly terrified as she split their wooden table once more with the sharp end of the weapon. 

He barely has time to witness the giant, weirdass spherical ice structure combust into frost and shaved ice, exploding into balls of hail, since _one of the said chunks fucking knocks him in the eye_.

* * *

“ _Oh my god.”_ Oikawa has torn through _every_ possible room of the ship and had shoved Kumini offboard at _least_ four times for him to search underneath the ship to see if Tobio’s somehow clinging off the sides of it or even under. “Iwa-chan. I lost the kid.”

“What.”

“The-” Oikawa groan is satanized with a shriek. “Ajaslfjsad the KID. Tobio-chan I- I _swear_ he is _not_ on the ship anymore.”

“Yeah.”

Iwaizumi slowly spits out the shell of a pumpkin seed he was shucking with his tongue, and turns to Oikawa, his countenance ironed and blank of his usual emotional reactions. “If Kyoutani doesn't kill you first, then I will."

Oikawa stares. 

Then he runs.

* * *

"Oh my god."

And even Yamamoto is quiet, his eyes bulging and protruding out round sockets.

Normally, Tsukishima would at least take either a verbal of physical jab towards it, but he's also rather preoccupied with the source of the unrealistic silence that befell them after Mother Nature tested their patience and whether evolution did anything towards their survival rate as a species.

Because there's a kid.

A kid that was sitting in that floating chunk of ice, seemingly preserved, almost.

Which can't be. He's frozen, has to be. Has to be dead.

Then, the boy collapses out of his little throne of shaved ice. They all stare, slowly meeting each others' gazes, clearly waiting for someone to make the first move.

Finally, Yamaguchi is the first one to speak. "See. I told you. Circle of life."

Tsukishima whacks him in the back of his head.

Hard. 

**Author's Note:**

> while writing this my title was inspired by: "https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TbngYdFIxTc" ("I Threw Glass At My Friend's Eyes and Now I'm on Probation" and it also inspired me to write this LMAO
> 
> also i love friendships so all the teams being individual families but then one giant family together!!  
> \----  
> guys talk to me!! except im rlly slow at responding;jioodfjif sorry  
> \-- ig: @lukewarm_oj (i post low quality art every once in a while if ur interested ;)  
> \-- twitter: @strawbrained


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